


All Hallows

by NEStar



Category: Sanditon (TV 2019), Sanditon - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M, Palm Reading, Slightly Supernatural, very slightly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 11:22:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21252575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NEStar/pseuds/NEStar
Summary: There are forces working to bring Charlotte and Sidney back together. Mystical forces.





	All Hallows

**Author's Note:**

> In this story I use a word that is a slur. It's a word (and some of the attitude) that Austen herself used in Emma, and I just couldn't make the 1817 English back country more woke then today.
> 
> Please realize there are a lot of things that I put into my fanfic that I would never do in real life (says the 35 year old virgin and smut writer).
> 
> Also, I totally BS'ed the palm reading part. So don't use this story as fact.

Charlotte was working in the stillroom making up a bruise balm, something in great demand in a house with four boys still in the school room, when Allison burst in.

“Charlotte, will you walk with me to White's Hollow? I was talking to Jane Rogers and she said that her brothers saw a group of Gypsies camping there – and reading fortunes! Please say you'll come!”

Charlotte laughed. “I have to finish this, and I'm sure you still have mending to do.”

“But when I'm done? Please say yes!”

“Fine,” Charlotte sighed, “When we're both done.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

The walk to White's Hollow was a pleasant one. The air carried just a hint of chill and a few smattering of leaves had turned a bright gold. The party walking along had turned into more then just Charlotte and Allison. Matthew, Allison's twin, had joined them and brought Mark and Jane Rogers along. And if Matthew and Jane lagged a little behind everyone else... Well, they were still close enough for no one to question it.

The Gypsy camp came into view and Charlotte felt a wave of apprehension roll over her. One of the men spotted them and gave a shout, then a woman stepped forward. “Fortunes?” she asked and Allison and Jane ran towards her.

The boys had struck up a conversation with a few of the men who were tending to the horses, leaving Charlotte standing by herself. A chill moved up her neck and she turned around to find an old woman looking at her.

“Your hand, I'll read you.”

“Oh, no thank you,” she replied. “I just came for the walk.”

The old woman's face didn't change, “I could feel you coming. Now give me your hand.”

Too shocked to think of any other answer, Charlotte held out her hand.

The old woman's hands were warm and soft as they cupped hers, gently moving her palm back and forth, flexing and bending it slightly. Then the old woman hummed, “Mostly normal. But here,” she pointed to a spot under the first finger. “This is the start of your heart line. The line is long and solid, a good sign. But this mark... I've seen it many times before but never so deep.” The woman moved her gaze up to Charlotte's eyes and studied her for a long moment. “The cross at the beginning means hardship or waiting. Maybe he's young and has to wait for a job or he's off at sea. Those are faint little scratches but yours... It looks more like a cut, like it might bleed at any second.”

Charlotte couldn't help the sob that caught, heaving, in her chest before coming out of her throat as a ragged whimper.

“Tell me of your hardship.”

Charlotte spoke the words she had never said out loud before, “He is going to marry someone else.”

The woman flicked her fingers in dismissal, “No, that is because of the hardship. Tell me the real hardship.”

Charlotte thought for a moment, “His brother is in debt. The woman he owes money to would see him in prison, his wife and children too.”

The old woman let go of Charlotte's hand so she could cradle her face. “No wonder your heart bleeds. Come, I'll give you some herbs for peace of mind, which you will need if you are to see this time through.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was a perfect autumn morning, the trees a riot of reds and gold and a swirl of fog on the ground. The company of gentlemen staying at Ellenhurst had ridden out just after sun up and it was the freest Sidney had felt in weeks.

At the head of the group Sir Barton had stopped to converse with a villager who had flagged him down. Sidney watched in careless interest as the man was animatedly talking, pointing at something to the east.

“Slight bit of business, gents. There's a bunch of Gypsies that have made camp just over a mile away. I need to go roust them before the town folk do.”

Sidney clucked his horse into motion and followed along. It was a short ride and when they arrived the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. This was like no Gypsy camp he had ever seen. The wagons were all pulled together in a tight circle, the horses hobbled close by with their tack still on, and only a single cook fire going.

As the group of riders came to a stop a man at the fire stood up, “Mother, are these the ones you're waiting for?”

A door opened on a wagon and an old women stepped out onto the small landing. She looked over the group before pointing straight at Sidney, “Him, the dark one.”

The man at the fire stepped forward, “She has been waiting for two days. Have a friend hold your horse and come inside.”

The gentlemen all looked around at each other. This was decidedly not how these interactions went, but Sidney slid off his horse and followed the old woman back into her wagon.

“First, your hand. I need to be sure of you,” she said.

Sidney held out his hand and sucked in a breath as she poked at a spot just at the base of his first finger.

“Even deeper!” she exclaimed. “My, you've been carrying a load.”

Without asking permission Sidney sat down on a bench set into the wall.

“Don't worry now, I've been thinking and working and I have a solution. But you must carry it out.”

For the first time since this strange scene began, Sidney spoke, “I don't understand.”

The old woman laughed, “There is a lot you folks don't understand. But trust me and trust that young woman of yours.”

Charlotte's warm smile instantly flooded his mind and he had to close his eyes against the pain of it.

The old woman laughed again, “Yes, her. I saw her six weeks ago, so brittle a puff of air could have shattered her into a hundred pieces.” The woman pulled out a small basket and held it out to Sidney. “Here is for your brother, the fool.” She lifted up a small dram bottle. “Red clover, good for opening the mind. You need to put two drops on the top of his head and the rest he drinks – all at the same time, mind you.”

Sidney nodded, still unsure what was actually taking place here.

The woman held up a muslin bag, “More red clover. You need to sprinkle it in the room the lady spends most of her time in. And this...” she held up a blue bottle. “An oil, to rub on her hands and over her heart.” She set the bottle down and held up a box, “And finally. Honey lozenges. For sweetening her words.”

“But... who is she?”

“That mark on your hand. It shows a block that hinders love. Remove the block and you gain your love.

“How am I going to do this?” Sidney asked.

The woman looked at him for a moment, “You might try bribing her maid.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was a cold day in October, the last day of that month, when a sound outside the window caused Charlotte to look up from her needlework. Between the bare branches of the tree that stood outside she could see a large horse. The man atop it swung down and turned to walk up the front path.

Dropping her work without another thought, Charlotte ran into the hall just as the door opened. There, framed by the glow of the setting sun, stood Sidney Parker. She walked over to him, as if in a trance. Without saying a word he took her hand and looked at the palm. A wide smile broke out over his face.

Quickly looking down Charlotte realized that the dark red mark that had sat just under her finger for the last several months was gone.


End file.
